Listen | m.yg + p.jm

Scars

Best friends. That was what they were now. Yoongi never thought that there would ever come a day where he would ever have a friend again. But he was wrong.

At first, he was hesitant about becoming friends with the red head. He was afraid that their friendship would be pretend. He hated fake. But after a while, he was finally able to let the boy in. Something he promised himself he would never do.

"Yoongi, what are those?" Jimin asked, looking over at his visible wrists.

      Yoongi looked down and saw his scars. He quickly pulled up his sleeves. "Oh... It-It's nothing. Nothing you should be worried about," he stuttered, cursing at himself under his breath for letting Jimin see.

      "Well, I am worried. But if you think it's really nothing, I won't bug you about it," Jimin sighed, though he had concern in his eyes.

     
      "Min Yoongi! What in the world are on your arms?!" The teacher yelled out of nowhere. He hadn't realized that she had been hovering above his desk, and he hadn't realized that his sleeves had slid down to his elbows.

      He quickly pulled them back up, but it was too late.

      "Go to the principles office! Right now! I'll meet you there in a minute. And don't even think about leaving!" The teacher growled. Yoongi felt himself shrink as he passed all the other kids on his way to they door. They were trying to look at his arms, but he had his sleeves pulled up tight. He wasn't going to let them see. He wasn't going to let them in.

      He opened the door, looking back towards the back of the classroom before he left. He saw Jimin, staring at him in disappointment and worry. He hated being stared at. He hated when people worried.

      The teacher came into the office and took a seat next to Yoongi, facing the principle that Yoongi had bumped into days before.

      "And, why exactly are we here?" The older lady asked coldly.

      "Look at this boy's wrists! He cut himself! Look at it, see?!" The teacher exclaimed in a panicky voice.

      "Eh, calm down. I'm sure Mr. Yoongi here can explain," she responded, her eyes drifting towards him.

"I-I just wanted the pain to-"

"Speak up, please"

"I. Just. Wanted. The. Pain. To. Go. Away," Yoongi said through gritted teeth. He felt himself begin to shake.

      "Okay, that's fine. There's no need to use that tone with me, sir," the principle hissed. Yoongi felt anger start to boil.

      "Miss, we have to call his parents! Or a hospital! Someone!" His teacher begged.

      "I know, I'll get to it. What's your mothers phone number, sweetie," she snarled, picking up the landline next to her.

"My mom's de-"

"Speak up, please!"

"My mom's dead!" Yoongi shouted.

      He heard his teacher gasp next to him. "It's even worse than I thought!" She exclaimed and began awkwardly patting Yoongi on the shoulder.

"Okay, what about your father, then?"

"He's alive, a little insane. I don't suggest-"

"I bet he'll suffice," she cut him off, "ah, what's his number?"

      Moments later, and angry, red faced man came bursting through the door.

"What'd he do this time?" The man, Yoongi's father, asked impatiently.

"Look at his wrists sir. Can you tell me what those are?" The principle questioned.

"Look, I-I have no idea. Honestly! I'm not hurting him, I swear!" He said defensively, raising his hands in surrender.

"Obviously. He's hurting himself. According to him, he's trying to, 'make the pain go away.'"

"I wouldn't know anything about his pains, hell, I barley even talk to him!" Yoongi saw his dad becoming more and more angry.

"I-It's nothing. Really, I promise. Please don't send me to therapy. Don't even send me to the hospital. I don't need help. Leave me alone, and mind your own business," Yoongi whispered, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

      "Sir, I'll let you handle this for now. But if we see another scar or cut on this boy's body, we're getting help. You and your son are excused," the principle warned, waving them off. This seemed to trigger his teacher.

      Yoongi got up and left the office room, hearing his teacher rambling on about pointless stuff to the principle. He was about to turn the corner back to class when something grabbed the back of his shirt.

      He turned around to see his father, boiling with rage. "Don't you ever get me into any of your problems ever again, you hear me?! I ain't dealing with your shit," his father threatened as he released him. Yoongi just nodded in fear and ran as fast as he could back to the safety of the classroom where demons awaited him.